


Midnight Oil

by MalecCrazedAuthor



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Angst, Gen, Good Parent Maryse Lightwood, Introspection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-07
Updated: 2017-08-07
Packaged: 2018-12-12 06:49:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11731746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MalecCrazedAuthor/pseuds/MalecCrazedAuthor
Summary: Maryse and Alec both have their reasons for haunting the halls of the Institute late at night. Perhaps between the two of them, they can figure what to do next.





	Midnight Oil

**Author's Note:**

> This fic doesn't really focus on Alec's pain over his separation from Magnus. While it's certainly there, he has more pressing issues to deal with first.
> 
> This work is unbetaed.

Nothing on the 3D display of Manhattan had changed in minutes, perhaps hours, and yet Alec stood hunched over it as though if he stared long enough, it would reveal to him the secrets of the universe. The Ops center was quiet--the patrols were either out looking for Valentine and his son, or they had reported in and retired for the night--and Maryse almost hated to disturb Alec’s concentration, except that his study of the display looked less like concentration and more like self-flagellation.

“Coffee?” she murmured, holding up the spare mug she carried. Alec startled, blinking rapidly.

“Thanks.” He sounded like someone had scraped a rusty file along his vocal cords. He cleared his throat and accepted the mug, testing the temperature with a tentative sip as his eyes drifted back to the map. “You checking on Max?”

Maryse shook her head, grimacing. “Taking a short break before returning to the infirmary. I’m sure I’ll be treated to a tirade in the morning about how he’s too old to be fussed over, but I can’t bring myself to leave for long.”

Alec’s head dropped, his chin nearly touching his chest as his shoulders rose and fell with a long, slow breath. “It was a close call.”

“It was.” Maryse blinked. Once. Twice. Three times, until the treacherous burning in her eyes dissipated. “This family has had too many of those the past couple months.”

Alec said nothing, and that silence said everything. Most of the Lightwoods’ recent near-misses, Maryse had learned about from afar, long past any opportunity to help. Alec had been in the thick of them.

To be honest, she wasn’t sure which was worse.

“Take a short walk with me,” she invited, tipping her head in the direction of one of the corridors branching off the Ops center.

“I can’t.” Alec swept his hand toward the projection display. “I need to--”

Yes, Maryse knew what he felt the need to do all too well. It was a tendency he’d learned while he was practically still at her breast.

“It won’t tell you anything it hasn’t been telling you for hours, Alec. Let’s get some air.”

He sighed and nodded, cradling his mug between his hands as they turned their backs on the Ops center. His shoulders remained hunched, bent under an old, invisible weight she only now realized he’d hadn’t been carrying the last couple times she’d seen him.

“When you were a toddler,” she remarked as he fell in beside her, his long strides considerately shortened. “Not long after the Circle fell, there were several months months where you were utterly inconsolable if I wasn’t with you non-stop. You were probably picking up on all the tension and anxiety from me and your father. I was quite pregnant with Isabelle, and virtually under house arrest while the Clave decided what to do with those of us who had defected from the Circle, so it certainly was no hardship to spend every hour with you.”

A sideways glance caught the tiniest, feeblest curve of Alec’s lips, a far cry from the sweet, unguarded smile she’d hoped to coax from him. ”But in that time, I had a chance to do a lot of thinking, about where everything went wrong, about what I could have done differently. I went over the same information in my head again, and again, and again, looking for signs I might have missed that we were doing the wrong thing, following the wrong path. How did I _not see_ that the brave, heroic boy we’d admired and emulated since we were children had grown up to be a madman? Even if I’d come up with any answers, it wouldn’t have helped or changed anything. But that process of driving myself mad looking for them was my way of punishing myself for the choices I made.”

“You think that’s what I’m doing tonight?”

“You really think that map you’ve been staring at for hours is going to tell you where Valentine and his son are?” Maryse stopped at the elevator and pushed the up button. Alec was silent as the doors slid open and then shut behind them once they’d stepped inside. Maryse took them to the top floor, with its access to the roof.

Alec always went for high, open spaces when he needed solace.

After what happened the party preceding Max’s rune ceremony, that knowledge filled her with more than a little unease. But she took him to the roof anyway, because this, too, he’d picked up from her. Many of those months she’d spent with his tiny arms around her neck, clinging to her like a limpet day in and day out, had been spent on the balcony of her rooms in their estate in Idris, and later here at the Institute.

Alec set his mug on the ledge of the parapet and braced his hands beside it, gripping the masonry in a white-knuckled grasp.

“I’ve been in charge of this Institute for less than two weeks and I haven’t done a single thing right in that entire time,” he said tonelessly.

“You’ve done more in two weeks than your father and I ever attempted in nearly twenty years.” That had been deliberate, of course. Any interference with the Downworld in those days would have looked as though they intended to continue Valentine’s work, and she and Robert hadn’t wanted to risk that. But she remained silent on that point. The reasons didn’t matter now.

“I let Valentine escape. I let that _thing_ he created waltz in and out of the Institute, treated him like a trusted advisor, put him in charge of security. I nearly got Max _killed_ …”

Maryse grabbed his arm, pulled her around to face him. “Alec, that isn’t your fault. You couldn’t possibly have known. He even fooled Aline Penhallow into believing he was her cousin.”

His eyes flashed in the omnipresent glow of the city lights, the muscle in his jaw flexing. “I promised the Downworld factions complete transparency, then reneged on that pledge the second it was more convenient to stay silent than tell the truth. If they break with the Clave, that’s on me. I was the one who proved to them that they can never trust us.”

“ _The Clave._ ” Maryse sneered, bitterly enough to wrench Alec out of his spiral of self-recrimination. “Do you want to know why I left Idris?”

He gave her a bemused frown. “I assumed it was because of Dad.”

Maryse shook her head. “Not in the way you probably assume. I left because my voice was being drowned out. I couldn’t accomplish anything more there. Since the moment we realized the Soul Sword was missing, the Clave has been preparing for war with the Downworld. They’re convinced it’s inevitable.” She pressed her lips tightly together, then plunged ahead. “Some of them are even eager for it. There are too many who seem to have forgotten the horrors of the Circle uprising, or are too young to really remember. They would rather war with the Downworld than confront the evil being perpetrated by Valentine. It’s easier to convince themselves the Downworld is at fault, that the Accords are untenable, and that Valentine was right all along.”

Alec’s mouth dropped open, his face growing paler in the dark. “Are you saying some of them might want to _ally_ with Valentine?”

“I certainly hope not. I’ve heard mutterings from a few who were thinking along those lines, but I don’t think the Clave has completely lost all reason yet. Still, if it comes down to a choice between a truce with Valentine and fighting a war on two fronts, especially against the Seelies? I really can’t say which way the Clave would go.”

“Oh, God.” Alec reached blindly for the parapet and knocked his mug off the ledge. It smashed against the ground four stories below with a muted crunch.

“That’s why I was so in favor of your Downworld cabinet.” Maryse smiled softly in memory of the pride she’d felt that night. “I had hoped if anyone could forestall the conflict, it would be you and Magnus.”

Alec frowned at her. “You don’t even like Magnus.”

“You’re right. I never did.” Maryse straightened her shoulders, staring out over the city with her hands clasped tightly together before her. “We clashed a number of times, and not just when your father and I were running the Institute.”

“When you were still in the Circle,” Alec said tonelessly.

“Yes. Exactly. I’m ashamed to admit that Magnus has been far more gracious to me than I’ve deserved, all things considered.” She closed her eyes and drew a deep breath. “You know, when I heard about Valentine’s attack on the Institute, I wasn’t afraid at first. Somehow I just knew that you and Isabelle and Jace were all right. But then I learned what Valentine had done to all those Downworlders, and I was terrified. For _Magnus Bane_ , of all people. Because I knew if you were fighting for your life, surely he wouldn’t be far away. And I knew what it would do to you if he were killed.”

Alec’s breath hitched sharply, his face crumpling for a split second before he got it under control. He turned back to stare into the night again, giving her only his stony profile.

“Suddenly, I could see so clearly. All the reasons for my antagonism toward him stemmed from things that I really should have left behind me twenty years ago, when I turned my back on the Circle. My petty resentments had forced you to choose between your family and your heart, and I swore I’d never do that to you again.” She swallowed against the lump in her throat. “Whatever you choose from here on out, Alec, I will stand behind you. I want you to know that.”

Alec’s head bobbed once, but he stood beside her in rigid silence for a long moment.

“If it comes to war, I can’t stand on the opposite side of the battlefield from him,” he said finally, the words so ragged it seemed they must be grating in his throat. “Even if it means dereliction of duty, going against the Clave. I _won’t_. I won’t be Aldertree, convincing myself years from now that it was always inevitable that I’d have his blood on my hands. I won’t do it.”

“I’m sure Jace and Isabelle will support you in that, and Clary Fairchild as well. And me, of course.” Maryse drew her shoulders back and made her tone brisk. The commander’s tone she’d perfected over her decades running the Institute. “But if you’re going to prevent things reaching that point, you probably only have a few more hours before the Downworld factions reach some sort of consensus. Figuring that out is certainly a better use of your time than staring at a map that isn’t going to tell you anything. Isn’t it?”

Galvanized, Alec shoved back from the parapet, a focused scowl already settling on his face. “Right. First thing we need to do is get patrols on the shores of Lake Lyn. Clary’s certain it’s the Mortal Mirror. We can’t take the risk of Valentine figuring that out.”

“I wouldn’t tell the Clave that, if I were you.”

Alec nodded grimly. “Agreed. There have been too many leaks already.”

“I believe Lucian ran with one of the feral werewolf packs in the Brocelind Forest for a short while, after he was turned. If anyone could get word through to their alphas, it would be him. They’d make excellent guards if someone could convince them it’s in their best interest.”

“Right.” Alec’s long strides carried him quickly toward the door, but he pivoted suddenly to brush a brusque kiss on her cheek. “Thanks, Mom,” he murmured, then strode away.

**Author's Note:**

> Find my at [maleccrazedauthor.tumblr.com](http://maleccrazedauthor.tumblr.com)


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